The Wall
by selaships
Summary: Trapped in a stranger's basement, all Emma has is a boy named Jax. The only problem is that they're separated by the thin wall between them...but Jax may give Emma more than his company. He might give her hope. Together, they try to piece together the motives of their kidnapper, and may find things getting even more dangerous.
1. Chapter 1

October 19th

Two weeks.

I have been stuck for two weeks in hell on earth.

I don't know why I had been taken. Only that I am in a small room, located in the basement of my kidnapper. My space is tall enough that I can stand up, and large enough to squeeze the twin sized mattress in between two sides. The mattress is just that; a mattress. No sheets, no pillow, no blanket, no bed frame. The only other thing in the room besides that is a glass of water inside a paper cup that he refills every once in a while. The door is locked from the outside, so I couldn't escape if I tried. Also, my left ankle is shackled and the chain is embedded in the wall. I can't even reach the door. I had tried for hours to pull free, but had no success. The only light in the room comes from a tiny ceiling lamp.

He comes in with a meal twice a day. 10:00 AM and 8:00 PM. It's usually toast with jam and a cup of juice in the mornings, a sandwich and some iced tea in the evenings. When I first got here thought, I refused to eat his food. I though he'd put something in it, and I didn't want to take any risks. I believed him when he ate it himself, but I'm still cautious of what he's giving me.

All day I sit here. I take several naps, in attempt to escape this place in my dreams. I think about what I'd be doing if I wasn't here. My day would start out with Dad driving me to school(I went to Iridium High, I was in my second year and my dad was the principal) and I'd meet my best friend Andi at the lockers. I'd see Daniel walk by, and he'd smile at me. He was my...almost boyfriend. We'd been flirting ever since I came to school last year, but nothing had ever come of it. Is he looking for me? Are they all looking for me? Do they think I'm dead?

A knock on the door jolts my out of my thoughts. I hate that he always knocks, even though he's the only who decides when the door opens. I hear the rattling of the keys, unlocking several locks on the door. He enters, bringing a tray with toast with peach jelly on it, an apple, and a cup of coffee, something he's never given to me before.

He places it in front of me, than takes out a bottle of water and refills my cup.

He. That's all I know about him. I don't know his name, only his face. He's never spoken to me in the two weeks I've been here. He looks about late twenties to mid thirties, he's white, and has light hair and blue eyes. He's very thin, but so tall he has to duck when he enters the room. He's a stranger, and he shouldn't have me locked up like this.

I don't have the courage to ask him anything yet. I can hardly look at him when he visits me. He didn't hurt me yet, not even touched me. I just hope they find me before that happens.

He leaves and I eat the food.

I miss my dad's crazy home cooking. I just miss him. I miss Andi. I miss Daniel. Heck, I even miss the Panthers at this point. What I would give to get out of here...Maddie could dump a smoothie on me everyday and I wouldn't care. I just want my life back.

I remember the kidnapping vividly. It's a constant movie replaying in my mind.

I was kidnapped at a place I'd never thought I'd be at risk. My own street.

October 5th

It was the evening and Dad was still stuck at school, and I was going to visit Danny. I was walking across the street to his house when a car almost hit me. I stopped for a moment, but then proceeded to cross the street. The driver's seat of the car opened, and he climbed out.

"Finally," he said, "I've been waiting forever to find someone like you."

"Excuse me?" I said, eyebrows furrowed.

"What's your name?" The creepy man said. I responded with, "none of your business." As he came closer to me, I prepared to run to Daniel's house, but he grabbed me by my shirt collar, pulling my back towards him. He clasped his hand over my mouth, I tried to scream but his hand muffled the sound. I kicked and hit around, occasionally striking him, but he managed to over power me and threw me into his trunk. He then shut the trunk door, and I kicked and screamed and sobbed but all I heard was the car starting back up. We drove for about a half an hour, and I stayed in the car for almost 3 hours before he opened the trunk. He quickly held a cloth to my mouth, and I felt my limbs become heavy. I succumbed to the darkness, and woke up a few hours later in my new room.

I'm not sure what time it is. I only know the times of my meals. He just gave me breakfast, so it's still morning. I'm in the basement, so there's no natural light down here.

I fall asleep, hoping I wouldn't wake up. Or that I would wake up and this would all be a dream.

But it wasn't. This is my dream.

I'm at my locker, back at Iridium. Daniel comes up to me, kisses me on the cheek and says, "Hey, Em. Happy 3 months."

I smile at him, then kiss him on the lips. If only this were my reality.

He hands my a small box wrapped in a purple ribbon.

"Open it," Daniel, my boyfriend in this world, says. "It's your present."

I untie the ribbon and open the little box to reveal a antique key shaped pendant on a silver chain.

"What's this, Danny, the key to your heart?" I tease. But I love it. I immediately take it out and unclasp the chain. Daniel insists on helping me, and I feel my heart fluttering.

"Kinda. It's the key to me. My soul. And yes, my heart. I want you to be able to unlock every part of me," he gushes, "and I saw it in that knick knack store you're always browsing in and knew you'd want it." His words make me, or the me in my dreams, blush.

"EMMA ALONSO, EMMA ALONSO, PLEASE COME TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. THANK YOU," I hear my dad announce over the PA system. I thank Daniel, give him another kiss, and walk to my father's office.

"Hey dad, er, Principal Alonso, what you want me for?" I ask as I enter the room. I see my dad at his desk, and the back of a boy's head in the chair across from him. The boy has jet black hair, and seems to be wearing a leather jacket. I don't recognize him.

"Emma, you'll be showing our new student around the school. Trust me, Emma, you'll be getting to know him very well," my dad says. Then the dream dissipates, and I'm awoken by loud thuds from above me.

My heart leaps. Could someone be here to save me? Or does this mean trouble for me? A million thoughts sweep across my mind as I wait for answers. I continue to hear sounds, it's the sound of struggling. Then it stops, and I hear someone coming down the stairs. I hear a door opening, but it's not mine. I can hear noise through the wall next to me. Maybe there's another room, next to mine. Maybe he brought another girl. The door closes, and mine soon opens. He comes in, sporting a bloody lip.

"You're probably wondering what's going on, girl," he says, wiping the blood on his sleeve. I nod, not wanting to speak. My kidnapper looks exhausted.

"I brought someone else. He is staying in the room next to yours. He is sleeping right now, so try not to be loud." Questions are eating at me, and I search around for my voice. I haven't spoken since I've gotten here.

"Why am I here? Why did you take someone else, too? Who are you? What do you want? When can I leave?" I ask, trying to keep my composure.

"She finally speaks. And she has a lot of questions, too. I might answer, if you tell me your name." He bends down to my level, looking in my eyes. My body floods with discomfort. He's too close.

"Sam," I say, afraid of telling the truth.

"Liar!" he yells. He suddenly slaps me, and my head lashes to the side. Turned away from him, I hold my cheek. He grabs my chin and pulls my head so I'm face to face with him.

"I'm losing my patience with you," he says, "I know that your name is Emma Alonso. The missing girl who is in the news all across the state. They haven't stopped searching for you for two weeks. Your best friend, your father, both on the news constantly. You've become quite the celebrity, but no one knows what happened to you." He giggles, "Well, except for me." Tears well in my eyes at the news. Andi. Dad.

"Please, just answer my questions!" I beg, tears prickling my vision.

"You are here because I want you to be. You're part of my family now, and I want to take care of you."

He is crazy. Pure madness.

"Just let me go, I'll tell everybody I ran away for 2 weeks or something like that, just please release me, and whoever you just brought here!" I shriek.

"I can't. I can't, Emma. You two are the only people I have now, and I'm not going to let you go. It gives me a thrill to watch people search for you, even though I know they'll never find you." He gets up, and walks to the door, putting his hand on the door, which is still unlocked. He turns his head to me.

"Oh, and Emma," he begins, "my name is Sander. But you will call me Master." He leaves the room.

I lean against the wall, where the boy on the other side "sleeps". I sob until I can't tell the difference between feeling sad and feeling...empty.

I can hear their conversation through the wall.

"You're here because I need you to be. I found you." Sander says, the tone of his voice slightly angry.

"You didn't find me. You took me," I hear a voice say. It must be the boy. His voice sounds mature, with an Australian accent. Who is he?

"What are you gonna do to me?" The boy with accent asks.

"I'm going to be keeping you and her here with me. I've been lonely for a long time now, so the three of us are going to spend the rest of our lives together," Sander says. A lump forms in my throat.

Rest of our lives.

"Who is 'her'? Are you telling me that there's someone else in this hell?" he questions. 'That girl is me!' I want to shout, let him know I'm here.

"That's none of your business," Sander spits.

"Why am I here? Tell me!" the boy says, his voice becoming angrier by the second.

"You are here because you two belong with me. I want to take care of you. You are mine."

"I am not yours!" the boy captive shouts.

"I have control over both of you! I need to, it's for your own good."

"No. You're psychotic. A lunatic. You do not own me," the boy spits. Soon there is a loud bang against the other side of the wall and I jump back.

"Behave, young boy. I am your master. You don't want another punch to that pretty face of yours, do you?" My kidnapper says maliciously. I here the door slam shut, and tense up for a moment, thinking he's coming to me next. But he doesn't. After a while I know I'm alone again. Well, except for the boy in the other room.

I try to sleep, but I just end up staring up at the ceiling, wondering about why I'm here and if I'll ever get out. Wondering about who the boy is and how he ended up here. Everything's silent, and my world seems to close in around me. 2 weeks has felt like 2 eternities.

I would give anything to hug my dad right now, or hear Andi's laugh, or see Daniel's smile. What I would do the listen to Ms. Jones's lectures about the polar bear population, get Maddie's pink smoothie dumped on me, get attacked by Gigi and her camera...you don't realize all the minor inconveniences you take for granted until you have nothing else to hold onto.

I hear some stirring coming from the boy's room, followed by his confused banter. He's talking to himself, he doesn't realize I'm here, that I can hear him. "What the hell? He chained me? Shit. Shit."

A thought pops into my head. I can hear him, so what if he can hear me, too? Being able to talk to him could mean a million things. So I take the leap, I speak up. At first my voice comes out a bit hoarse, but I manage to get the words out.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" I say to the wall, hoping I'm not just talking to myself.

"Yes, I can hear you! Oh my god, you're the girl he told me about. We gotta get outta here," he says, rushed and dazed. He's frightened. I can't see him, but voice gives it all away.

"Calm down. It's okay. What's your name?" I ask the boy.

"My name is Jax," he said, "how long have you been trapped down here?"

"My name is Emma, I've been down here for two weeks."

"Emma, were going to get out. We have to."

"I know, it's just...I've been down here for two weeks and chances for escape are already looking dim. I'm chained to wall, I can hardly move around. I get 2 meals a day. All I do is sleep. From my perspective, there is no escape." I sound hopeless. But this boy Jax is so eager to get out. He wants out this moment, but that's impossible. If we're going to escape, we're going to need a plan, we're going to need to wait for the right time.

"I'm chained, too. But that doesn't matter, it doesn't mean we can't eventually escape." He's riled up. He has the same amount of hope I did when I first got here...that ended after a few days.

"Okay. Just be patient, I'm sure we'll figure out something soon. Jax, we're going to need to trust each other." I try to reassure him.

"Okay, Emma." There's silence for a moment. I'm not quite sure what to say. But then my new companion speaks up. "Wait, are you Emma Alonso? The girl who went missing from her home in Miami?" So he knows who I am.

"Yeah, from the street outside my home, actually. What about you?"

"Outside my house, too. He actually hit me with his car, I lost consciousness and then woke up in his trunk. I struggled and tried to fight him while he dragged me down here. I could've over powered him, but I think I have a concussion from the car accident, and my shoulder is killing me."

"I'm so sorry," I say, and I mean it.

"You don't need to apologize. You...the whole state has been looking for ever since you've disappeared. The search has been extensive. But of course they aren't going to look in some guy's basement."

"I was conscious for the car ride in his trunk here. It took about a half an hour to get here. That doesn't mean I have a clue where we are, but at least it's something I know. I talked to that guy about why he has us here, he said he wants all of us to be together...he's insane."

"Has he hurt you? I mean, he obviously hurt me. But what about you?" he asks.

"He's only hit me once. I've hardly even communicated with him until you came. I've just be rotting here for two weeks," I tell him.

"I'm sorry," he responds. I reiterate his own words:

"You don't have to apologize."

Over the next few days, I tell Jax everything he needs to know. He gets somewhat adjusted to being here, as much as one can be adjusted to being held captive. We learn our rooms are basically identical, as well as the meals we get. So far it's week three for me, week one for Jax. He's become my friend. He's all I have now, and it doesn't hurt that he's not a bad companion.

One day, we're eating our dinner and talking, when a...touchy subject is thrown into the mix. So far we've only talked about kidnapping-related things.

"What was your family like?" he asks me. The thought of my dad puts a pit in my stomach.

"I lived with my dad. He's the principal of my high school. He is the most amazing parent anyone could ever have...he always cooked crazy recipes and invited my friends over for dinner. And he was over protective but I loved him for it. He was always so happy and always made sure I was happy. I hate that this is causing him so much pain. He must be a mess, and I just want him to be happy, he worries and I wish he didn't worry..." I hadn't realized I started crying.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he says kindly. His voice, the only thing I know of Jax, is genuine.

"No, it's okay, you didn't upset me. Tell me about your family."

"There's my mum, my dad, and my little sister Jessie. My mum's house is in Hollywood, Florida, and that's where we live. Except for my dad, he travels between our Sydney house and Miami house for work. He's president, founder, and CEO of the Novoa Group, a huge company in Australia that's making it's way into American business. Anyway, my mum was from Hollywood and we moved there from Sydney when I was seven. I kept the Australian accent, Jessie was only a newborn so she developed an American one, like my mum has."

"Your family sounds amazing, Jax," I admit. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have my mom, or siblings.

"Yeah, they really are...but your dad sounds like the complete opposite of mine. I think it would be nice to have a dad who cares so much," he says.

"I love my dad so much, but sometimes I just wanna have a mom, you know? She died when I was young," I tell him.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Apologizing. That's became taboo for us. We usually don't apologize for all the crappy stuff happening to us, because there are some things we can't control, things we don't need to apologize for.

"Jax?"

"Yeah?"

"We should make a pact. We should never have to say "I'm sorry". We shouldn't have to apologize, given the circumstances. I know it may sound strange, but I just..." I trail off.

"I understand what your getting at, Emma. I agree. No more sorries."

Please comment your thoughts! I'm curious to whether or not this is good. The second chapter is already started, I can't wait for you guys to read it!

Love, Sela.


	2. Chapter 2

December 17th

We spend the next two months together, wasting the days away by talking. About everything. I may not know his face, but after several weeks of being trapped down here with Jax, I know him so well that it's like I've known him all my life. And I feel like he knows me now, too. I've told him all the little things about me, even the stuff Andi doesn't know. Jax and I have bonded. In way I can't really explain, just be hearing his voice every day I'm given a gram of hope in my heart. This whole ordeal just becomes so much easier with another person.

I wish there wasn't a wall between us. I just want to feel the warmth of another person. Someone that isn't Sander. He hasn't done much lately, but every moment with him is uncomfortable. But today. Today is a special day.

It's my 16th birthday.

I keep track of the days. Every day for two months I've told myself what day it is, keeping track of how long I've been down here. It's been 74 days. Today is my birthday.

It's supposed to be a happy day, but I don't know how any day here could possibly be happy. No sweet sixteen for me.

It's still early in the morning. My body has adjusted to being down here, and I can just...sense what time it is now. I assume Jax is asleep, but then I hear stirring in his room, a sign that he's probably awake now.

"Jax? Are you awake?" I ask. I told him my birthday was today, and the little part of me that still feels joy hopes he remembers.

"Yeah, Em." His voice is groggy. "I'm awake now."

"Do you remember what today is?" I question.

"Your...16th birthday," he says.

"Correct. Right now, I could be taking my driver's permit test. Planning for a sweet sixteen. Eating cupcakes..." I wonder out loud. We often think about what we'd be doing if we weren't here, even if it gets a little painful.

"Well happy birthday. Or not so happy birthday. I turned sixteen before this, back in August."

"What was the date?"

"29th. I had this huge party in my backyard, a rager. Best party of my life. 300 people, at least."

"Sounds amazing. You must of been a really popular guy." I wonder what it would have been like to be that popular. I had only started going to Iridium sophomore year, so all the kids in my class were already bonded. Luckily, I found Andi. And Daniel. I wasn't lonely, necessarily. I was content with my best friend, my crush, and little acquaintances here and there at school. I had Maddie as a frenemy, so I guess that counts for something. But Jax is the kind of guy where I can just tell he's popular. He's cool, he has an extremely lovable personality, and his voice...if he looks as attractive as his voice, then he was definitely a good looking guy.

"I guess I was. As I already told you, I was captain of my school's champion varsity soccer team, ladies loved me, of course, and I was often...looked up to. I don't know why, though, because I was a bit of a rebel," he says.

"Rebellion is a popular thing with teenagers, of course you were popular," I respond. Then the sound of the basement door interrupts our conversation, and we both go dead silent. My door rattles a bit, and my stomach drops a little as he enters.

"Happy birthday, Emma. I got you a present, and I think you'll really like it," he says, creepy as always.

"The only thing I want is to get out of here," I demand. He shoots me a scary look.

"You should be grateful. I'm giving you something that I wasn't going to give you, but I decided to be kind, maybe you'll be a little more interesting of a friend."

"I am not your friend."

"You will be after you see your present." He steps out of the room for a moment, leaving the door open. I just want to run, sprint out the door into the world. But I'm chained to wall. He enters the room again, carrying a small television. It's pretty old, and has a box on the back. He places it in the corner opposite of me.

I watch him set everything up for about an hour. Once the cable is connected, he turns the television on and hands me the tiny but bulky remote. I'm filled with sudden joy, but I don't dare show it on my face.

"A tv?"

"Of course. Now you don't just have sit here all day, and we talk about current events and tv shows. I want to bond with you, Emma, but you're making it quite difficult."

"Well...thank you. For the present, I mean." I drop my head down, not wanting to look at him anymore.

"Hey," he says. I hear his footsteps coming toward me. "Tonight there will be a one hour Miami News special about you. You'll see your family. I know you miss them, but having you here...it's what I need."

"Please, just stop." I still don't look up at him, he's making me too upset. "Yes, I want to see my family. But you can't keep me here. You don't need me."

"Of course I need you. One day you'll understand." He leans his head down and kisses me on my cheek. I flinch. I look up at him, and he looks hurt. But I don't care.

"I'll leave you with your present." He exits.

Jax pipes up a minute later, and I'm sure Sander is gone.

"A tv, yeah? Seems like he's really lightening up. And like he said, you'll get to see your family...that's amazing."

"I just wish we both got to see our families," I tell him.

"It's okay. At least you get to your dad, and probably Andi and Daniel, too."

"I just miss them so much. Andi was my rock, and she always pushed me to break the boundaries and get a little uncomfortable. She might've been my complete opposite, but she completed me. And Daniel...things were getting good with him. He was the guy that I had had a crush on for the longest time. This might sound awkward, but I know if this hadn't happened that him and me might've actually happened by now. I really liked him. He was special to me, and he cared about me. It's just hard to not know how he felt, and still not know now."

"Did you love him?" he asks.

"I think I was on my way to loving him. I was falling for him, I know that. But how would I know? I've never been in love before, never even close to it. Never had a boyfriend, never kissed anyone. Never been on a date. It's sad, I know, but I don't know what that kind of love feels like. Do you know what love's like? Have you ever been in love?"

"Yeah, I think I used to be. It was before I moved. I knew her, forever it seemed like. She was just always there for me, she understood me. And one day, she told me had feelings for me and I told her I felt the same. Things picked up quickly from there, a little too quickly. After a few months, I think we were so in love that we couldn't take it anymore...we couldn't handle to pressure. When I told her I was moving in a few weeks, she broke up with me. Said she didn't want to get her heart broken. Ended up breaking my heart instead, and the funny thing is I was happy that I was moving. If only I knew what I was getting into." His story makes me really sad. Would that of happened with me and Daniel?

"At least I haven't experienced heartbreak. That sounds awful."

"It is. But I think I'm over it now."

"Good for you. It just gets harder everyday. At the same time I still like Daniel, but being away from him is just making me lose my connection with him. I'm starting to feel like I'm falling out of love with Daniel. When we have nothing to do but talk to each other and think...I overthink everything. I'm starting to drive myself crazy. It's like I don't want Andi or Daniel to forget me or not care, but I don't want them to spend all their time worrying about me."

"Emma, I don't think they'll forget about you. Especially being the person you are, Andi and Daniel would have a hard time moving on from you." I'm blushing, and I'm thankful I can't see him.

"Well I'm sure this girl, who was stupid to break your heart, is really worried right now. She's thinking about why she didn't keep you when she had the chance, because she should've," I say.

"And Daniel is dumb if he doesn't realize he has the chance of getting a girl like you," he says.

"Maybe it would be better if he didn't like me like that. If he doesn't care, he won't be hurting. And the last thing I want to happen is for him to be hurting because of me."

"Daniel probably cared for you, if not romantically, maybe as a friend. He's probably hurting. But that's okay, because it means he cares. I miss my friends and family and all, but some of the people I knew just were friends with me de the benefits, not because they cared for me. I was a burden to my father, always and disappointment."

"Don't ever think that, Jax. You are more than just the popular boy. You are sweet, understanding, and a great listener."

"At least someone thinks good of me." He sounds like he's hurt himself with his own words. But can't he see that the people in his life loved him? I've learned so much about Jax these past couple months, he's told me about his problems with his dad, his trouble with moving to Miami.

Of course I know some of the heavier stuff, because this place brings out the worst feelings within a person, but I also know that his favorite food pad Thai. His favorite color is black, he loves Colombian coffee ice cream and riding rollercoasters. Gossip Girl is his guilty pleasure.

I know that him and his sister Jessie bake a cake every Sunday. I know his grandma died of cancer a few years ago. I know his best friend from Australia used to text him every day. I know another best friend of his overdosed at one of Jax's parties a year ago.

I know him.

I take a deep breath, "so should I watch some tv? Maybe if I turn the volume up loud enough you'll be able to hear it, too. Maybe there will be something about you."

"Yeah, turn it on. Miami News airs on channel 6, I think," Jax says.

I pick up the remote and press the power button. Once the TV turns on, I flip to channel six. It's time for the special on me tonight. An reporter in with blonde hair in a red parka appears on screen, as well as photos of me and Jax. This is the first time in seeing what he looks like.

He's absolutely gorgeous.

His hair is dark, looks almost black. His big dark eyes are dreamy. His smile is big and white against his tan skin. He handsome, muscular, looks like a bad boy with a sweet side...I find myself being attracted him. So odd.

 _"Today marks the 16th birthday of missing Miami teen Emma Alonso. She disappeared from her home on October 5th, 2014, and her whereabouts are still unknown today. Unfortunately, her case has gone cold. The only possible connection is the disappearance of another Miami teenager two weeks after her disappear. 16 year old Jax Novoa had just moved here from Sydney, Australia when he went missing from his home in Miami. No trace of either teen has been found, but police and sometimes volunteer search parties are still working._

 _Both families have not lost hope, though. Francisco Alonso says he plans to spread his daughter's picture around the whole country if he has to, and Jake Novoa has put thousands of dollars into the search for the two."_

My dad appears on the screen. It's the first time I've seen him in over two months. I wipe the tears from eyes so I can see him without the blurriness. He looks the same except for the bags under his eyes, the emptiness in his eyes. He starts to talk to the reporter:

 _"The worst part of losing her is that I don't know what happened to her. She didn't have any reasons, not that I knew of, to run away. It kills me to think someone took my baby. What could they be doing to her? And just the thought of her being..."_

Killed. That's what he was thinking.

 _"I just want her to come home. I would do whatever it takes for her to come home."_

He looks at the camera.

 _"Emma, if you're watching this right now, just know that I love you, and I know I will see you again. I'll get you back home, I promise, baby. And if the person that took you is watching this...my daughter does not belong with you. I urge you to the right thing and return her home and turn yourself in. I will find you."_

Tears run down my face at the sound of my father's voice. I wipe my face as the reporter appears back on screen.

 _"Now we go live to Iridium High School, where Iridium classmates of Emma Alonso along with Jax Novoa's classmates from Gossamer Prep join together for a candle lite vigil in honor of Emma's birthday. Students from both schools have joined together in the tragedy of their two missing classmates. Here with me is Andi Cruz, best friend of Emma."_

The camera pans to Andi, and more tears well up in my eyes at the sight of her.

 _"Andi, how does it feel to be celebrating Emma's 16th birthday without her? How difficult has it been for you these past months?"_

 _"Things have been rough. Tonight is extra bitter, knowing that Emma had been looking forward to this day. I miss her so much. There's not a day that goes by where I don't think about her. I just...just wish she'd come back home."_

This was the first time I'd ever seen her cry. Andi never cried.

Images of the vigil are shown. The camera closes up on Daniel as he lights a huge lantern as lifts it into the air.

 _For Emma_ it reads.

Everyone I know in Miami is there, and so many more people I don't know. There must be thousands.

The reporter closes the segment.

 _"Tonight, other missing teenager Jax Novoa's family mourns with Emma's family and friends during this bitter reminder of Miami's lost children. From Miami News Channel 6, this is Tessa Mayer. Good evening._

Shots are shown are of family with dark hair and tanned skin. They must be the Novoas. My attention doesn't stay on them for long, though, as I spot someone else in the background, among the crowd.

Sander is at my vigil.

My kidnapper is right under their nose.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm searching for something that I can't reach.

My ghost, where'd you go?

What happened to the soul that you used to be?

\- Ghost, Halsey

December 20th

"So why would he be there? At your birthday vigil? With our families?" Jax questions through the wall. Only a few days have passed since my birthday, where I got to my dad and Andi after all this time, where I got to see a glimpse of what Jax looked like, to hear what people thought happened to us. But I also saw Sander, my kidnapper, attending.

And I hate crying, but it's been hard to hold back lately. That little look of the things I missed most was like putting salt in an open wound.

"To blend in, maybe. People wouldn't expect him to go right into the eye of the storm, right? If he doesn't bring any attention to himself, people will just regard him as any regular guy. Or he just gave me that TV so that I would see him at the vigil," I reply.

"This always makes my head spin. Just thinking about him, his unknown motives...we know nothing about him, Em. Frankly I'm sick of it."

"I know. But you can't let it get to you, Jax."

I press the side of my face against the wall. It's hard, smooth, cold. It sends a chill through my body.

Over two months. How is it that these two months have passed by so quickly? I've had nothing to do down here talk to Jax. The days should go by painstakingly slow, but instead they pass by in the blink of an eye. Maybe that's just what happens when all you do is talk, getting lost in the words reminding you of the places you used to be, the people that you miss. And when the one you're talking to just happens to be the most interesting person you've ever met.

But when I'm not talking to Jax, I'm stuck inside my own head...and sometimes that can lead to thoughts I'd never had in my old life.

"I don't think I'm afraid of dying anymore," I say to Jax. "I used to be terrified of him killing me when he brought me down here...but now? What's the worst he could do to me? He's already taken my life away from me. Why not finish the job?"

"So death doesn't scare you? Even if he decides to kill, would you want it to be painful and long torture? Would you still be brave in the face of death if it meant complete suffering?"

"I don't know. Yes? It would be escape."

"Escaping would be an escape. Getting out, returning to our real lives. Not dying. There's still hope for us," he said. He sounded so confident that we were getting out it almost made me believe him.

"You're right. I don't even know why I'm saying this stuff. The Emma I was before this was so bubbly and cheerful that she would've never given up hope...she would've stayed relatively happy with herself, and she would've fought. Maybe that's the problem. I'm losing touch with the old girl. I mean, she wasn't all that bad. I just need a little more of her in me."

"Well, I might not have known this old Emma, but I'm pretty impressed with the one here with me. She just needs to keep her head up. After all, she's the only thing in my life that's making me happy. She's where all my hope is coming from. And I don't want to die because I want to be to see that girl's face. To be able to hold her, look into her eyes...I still haven't forgotten that beautiful image blasted all over the news two months ago."

His words make me feel warm, and I'm...smiling.

"I won't lose hope, Jax. For both you and me," I say, putting my hand against the wall, hoping to feel something, anything. I imagine his hand there, next to mine, and I close me eyes. I feel peace.

In the dream, I couldn't breathe. An unknown and unseen force was taking my breathe from me. I was suffocating...and my mother was there. Trying to help me. I looked at her, eyes wide open, as to say, "help me, Mom! I need air!"

"Emma," she said, putting her hand on my cheek. "The only way is to help yourself."

What does that mean? I screamed inside my head.

"The answers may be closer than they seem," she said. But I still was confused. She wasn't just referring to my suffocating anymore...but how would I help myself escape captivity? I have nothing to use as a weapon, nothing to escape from my chain.

And in this dream, how am I to stop this force from suffocating me if I don't what it is?

My mother smiled at me. "You'll figure things out. Use the boy, too. He's the best thing you've got. He cares. You can't give up Emma. Because of Francisco, your friends, your future...and because of me. I can't...won't let him steal away my daughter's life, too. Emma, be safe. But fight. Imagine the life you were meant to have."

She disappeared.

And my dream-self died, succumbing to the lack of oxygen in my lungs.

And for a moment I feel absolutely nothing.

I awoke from the dream, sweat beading down my forehead in hot rivulets.

"The answers are closer than they seem..."

The phrase seems to be stained on my teeth.

"What was that, Em? Just wake up?" Jax's voice startles me at first, but I sit up and answer him.

"Nothing...yeah, just woke up. Why are you up?" I ask.

"We haven't even had dinner yet. It's still the early evening."

"Oh."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine...why do you ask?" After my dream, I'm not fine. No, far from it. My mother's vague explanations just provided more questions. I can't get her out of my head.

"I'm asking because I can tell by the way you sound that you're not fine."

"Then why even ask if I'm fine in the first place?"

"I don't know...I know you're going to lie and say you're fine, even when I know you're not. So my question for you is why do you lie to me and tell me you're fine?"

"Everyone tells those little white lies. Because everyone doesn't want to explain why they're not okay. They don't want people to know why they're not okay, so they can keep it secret."

"But why would you wanna keep something like that secret? Don't you want help, don't you want to feel better?"

"Because I'm afraid of what people will think..."

"You shouldn't be afraid of what I think. I'm in no position to judge, and you should no that."

"Okay," I say, "I had a dream. My mom was there. I couldn't breathe. She said some really strange things, about this whole being kidnapped thing. And then I died."

There's silence.

"This is why I didn't want to tell you," I say, "you think I'm crazy now, right?"

"I don't think you're crazy. Actually, you're one of the most sane people I know, especially for a girl living in these circumstances. What did she tell you? Your mum, I mean," he says softly.

"She told that there are answers to all of this. And that together, we can out. But it's a dream...my imagination, right?"

"Maybe."

December 23rd

I can't stop thinking about my mom. About the dream. About her words, about a way to get out...and all I know is that I want to get out...now.

Know I'm not crazy. Not yet, anyways. I've thought about this. Sure, Jax hasn't really agreed to anything yet, but it's my escape plan. Why wouldn't he agree to a chance at escape?

My plan started when I saw the light. Literally. The half circle type of lamp attached to the ceiling was a few feet above me. I was going to break it, shattering the glass.

It's early in the morning. Sander is coming down for breakfast in less than an hour.

I chuck the tv remote at the ceiling lamp. It hits, and bits a glass scatter around the dusty floor. I feel a sting on the top of my cheek, and reach up my hand to the spot. Blood. I look at my finger, partially coated in a bright red liquid. A piece of glass must've pierced my skin.

"Emma!"

Then I spot it. A few feet away from me a larger shard of glass, only slightly smaller than my hand. Sharp enough to be a weapon. It's going to be my ticket out of here.

"Are you okay?"

But even in my small room, it's still difficult to reach. I try and stretch to reach it, but I still fall short.

"What happened?"

I pull and pull against the manacle, the part attached to chain locked around my wrist. It's hard, cold metal. But I pull.

"Emma, can you hear me?"

My wrist starts to ache, telling my to stop pulling. I'm trying to reach so that my free hand can grasp the glass, but I'm being held back by my other wrist.

"Em, please."

The pain is burning hot, white fire against my skin. A million needles are biting into my skin, injecting their poison inside. I let out a sharp groan of pain, trying to suppress the noise.

"EMMA!" Jax shouts worriedly.

"I'm fine!" I yell. I have no idea if Sander is hearing the noise.

I feel an excruciating pain, tears burn in my eyes. But I have the glass in my hand. Yes, I can feel the blood drawing from the cuts it's putting in my hand. But I don't care. I'll be ready when Sander comes.

"Emma, what's going on?" Jax asks. I can't bear to keep the truth from him anymore.

"I'm gonna get out..." is all I mention to get out. Blood streaks down my arms.

"What? Are you crazy?"

"I have a weapon." I grunt through the pain.

"But are you okay? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm fine...just a little bit of a scratch..."

"Emma, please don't do anything to hurt yourself." I can't see his face but I can imagine what it must look like.

"I won't try to...but for my mom. My mom. My mom," I trail off in a whisper. The sight of blood is making me sick, the pain is slowly growing. Tingles all over my body that are telling me to get help.

I hear the unlocking of the heavy door that tells me Sander is coming with breakfast. What will he think when he sees this mess of broken glass and blood?

The knob on my door turns. He comes in with an apple in one hand and a bottle of Sunny D in the other.

"What's going on in here?" he shouts in an angry voice. I'm hiding the shard of glass behind my back. Anger boils up in him, his face twists into that sinister look. Suddenly he throws the apple at me, and it hits my face with a thud. I let out a whimper.

"What did you do!" he yells. Before I know it, he's right in front of me, clutching my face in his hand. I cry out as more pain spreads through my body.

I try to pull my makeshift blade my behind my back, and fighting through all the pain, I get my free arm out, shard of glass in hand.

But as soon as I'm moving my weapon towards his chest, he notices and flinches, pulling back with the reflexes of a cat. I plunge the broken glass into his thigh. He screams out in pain, then slaps me across my cheek. My heads falls down to my chest, and I can't bear to raise it back up.

"Why do you want to hurt me?" he screams. Tears from the pain rolls down my sore cheeks.

"Because!" I cry. "I don't want to be here! You need to let us go!"

"Shut up! You're staying. Now I have to clean up this mess you've made!"

I sit there and sob as he exits the room. I failed.

I hear him enter Jax's room.

"Both if you think I'll just let you go. I can't...neither of you understand all I've gone through. You, both of you, were meant to be mine!" he yells.

"What?" Jax says, sounding confused as ever.

"Never mind. Here's your breakfast."

As soon as Sander is definitely gone, I hear Jax's voice.

"Are you okay?"

No scolding. No 'what-we're-you-thinking?'s No telling me that my plan was stupid. Just concern.

"No," I cry. "I'm not."

"Oh my god...how hurt are you?"

"I'm not gonna die. He just hit me. And I'm bleeding from holding that glass I stabbed him with. I just...just need to clean this cut. I'm sure I'll be able to once he realizes..." But I have an idea. What if he doesn't clean and bandage the wound and I die of infection. The cut isn't extremely deep, but it's no superficial wound. I need to nurse the wound.

But what is he going to do? Will he go a hospital? What will he say? If he does get help, will anyone suspect anything?

"Jax, I was so stupid. Thinking I could just kill him? How would I get out? I thought I had it all figured out but I didn't. I need your help if we're going to ever get out. I need you." I take in a deep breath. "And what I said about not caring if I died? I do care. I want to live. God, I want to live so bad. I want to see my family, my best friend. I want to see my home again. I want to have a normal, boring life. I want my old life back. But this time I want you in it, too. I want to live. I need to live. For the people in my life now, and for my mother. I'm not ready to die."

I wipe my tears, leaving smears of my own blood all over my face.

"I'm not ready to die either, Em. I can't stand the thought of us, you, not making it out here. All you give me is hope. That's why I'm not ready to die," he says. His voice is like a light, guiding me in the right direction.

"I'm not ready to die because I have you. And you give me real hope. Something a dream could never provide."

All the pain I feel. All the blood, sweat, and tears I've shed.

But I still have him.


	4. Chapter 4

Please read the following author's note before continuing on

I'm back!

Actually, I've been doing updates on wattpad for a while.

Here's the link: story/48084692-the-wall-jemma

if clicking the link does not work, copy and paste it or download the wattpad app and search for me: selaships 

thank you so much if you are still reading this!

TO THE PERSON IN REVIEWS WHO ASKED IF THEY COULD STEAL MY IDEA: NO. THIS IS MY ORIGINAL STORYLINE THAT IM WRITING AS BOTH A FANFICTION AND WITH ORIGINAL CHARACTER (this is not released yet, tho) YOU MAY NOT STEAL MY IDEAS. PLEASE TELL ME WHO YOU ARE SO I CAN FIX THIS, AND TO MAKE SURE YOU HAVE NOT COPIED MY IDEA AND SAID IT IS YOUR OWN. PLEASE GUEST USER THATONEGIRL

that is all. I'm sorry, but that made me really upset. i put a lot of hard work into this and I will not have it being blatantly stolen. whoever made that comment, please private message me so we can peacefully talk this out. I'm not mad at you, but i really want to talk to you.

Here's what you've all been waiting for :)

 _ **December 24th**_

The worst Christmas Eve I'd ever had was when I was six years old. My mother had only died a few weeks ago, and it was my first Christmas without her. However, this didn't stop most of my family from coming to visit my dad and I. Aunts, Uncles, grandparents, cousins. 15 or so people in total at my house on Christmas Eve. Something about "not wanting Francisco and Emma to be alone on their first Christmas without Maria." Of course, Christmas Day was meant to be spend in their own homes with their own families. But honestly, I was perfectly fine with that.

Whatever. My family hadn't been super close. We still aren't. I was just so little, so overwhelmed by the adults telling me how I should feel. "It's okay to be sad", "you'll feel better soon" were ones I got a lot.

I got lots of gifts that year, but they all were all worthless. All I wanted was my mommy. All I wanted was for the pain to go away. I wanted to stop seeing my dad so depressed. I wanted to take away his pain and see him smile again.

In my six year old brain, I was conflicted. I thought that I should be excited about Christmas, like something was wrong with me because Santa was coming and I wasn't happy.

I didn't talk much that Christmas. And the strangers I called family members didn't nearly fill the void. A void that was shaped like my mom, a role no human being could come close to fulfilling. I had never felt so alone. No six year old had ever experienced a holiday so bitter. No six year old had ever been burdened with the emotions a Christmas Eve without her mother gave. At least that's what I though in my mind at the time.

My fifteen year old cousin Sam was the only person who could've possibly made me the least bit happy that Christmas. She sat in bed with me and we ate snicker doodles and watched my favorite Christmas movies and she taught me Christmas songs while she introduced me into scrap booking. I got that from her. She always brought her supplies over and we'd make pages together. It all started that Christmas Eve, the only good thing to come of it.

After Sam graduated college, we never saw her again. Maybe she saw my family for what I did. Just a bunch of people that shared your DNA. My family had its problems, and Sam never had a close relationship with even her mother. It made sense when she said she wouldn't be coming for Christmas anymore. She had plans of her own.!

However, this terrible Christmas Eve really takes the fruitcake.

Sander likes to pretend everything is alright. He brings us holiday cookies, snicker doodles, chocolate chip, peanut butter swirl. And white chocolate cranberry.

I remember these cookies. White chocolate cranberry cookies were always my mom's favorite. In my family, my dad was the cook and my mom was the baker, and together they made Christmas my favorite holiday as a young child. The food!

I remember helping my mom bake those cookies. I couldn't do much besides putting ingredients in bowls. But Mom loved those cookies. She would make so many batches of cookies and give them out to our family, friends, and neighbors, but she always kept extra white chocolate cranberry for her.

My dad has always liked her pumpkin cookies. He still does. And my favorite were snicker doodles. Dad tried to make the cookies a few Christmases after she died, but they never tasted the same as Mom's.

It's just so weird that now I'm seeing them again. They aren't your typical everyday Christmas cookie. White chocolate cranberry cookies were cookies I'd only ever seen my mom make. But now, they've found their way back to me...

I can't help but take a bite.

I'm thrown into an instant flashback. I can see it so clearly in my mind, the sweet taste on my tongue sends this message into my mind that sparks a memory.

It's like I'm right there. We're in our old house, the one we lived from the time I was born up until when I moved to Miami. My mom is the kitchen, and my five year old self is right next to her. This is the last Christmas we spent together. In the vision I can almost smell Christmas. The smell of pine tress and peppermint and sweet cakes and savory meat.

My mom is making the cookies. Mixing the batter, putting in the white chocolate chips...she turns to me. Little me with the pigtails and a grinning face filled with crooked baby teeth. A few missing, too.

My mom speaks up.

"My mother taught me how to make these cookies. They aren't hard to make at all, it's just tradition. For as long as my family can remember, the mothers have taught their daughters how to bake Christmas cookies. They said it's starting a foundation on how we should treat life, how we should take care of our families. It teaches us that our purposes is to love others. To be there for others. Especially family. And never let anyone get in the way of you and those you love."

Young me simply stared up at her dreamily, hardly taking in the words. I just had to stare at her a little longer.

Why do these words come back to me now, of all times? They must of always been there, shoved in the back of my memory. Now, I can cherish them. They are the words of my family. They are a part of me.

My attention tears away from the memory as a sudden rush of pain shoots up my body. My hand.

Yesterday I tried to escape. The attempt was futile at best. All it resulted in was pain. For me and my kidnapper. Though I don't mind if he's in any pain. He's caused enough pain in me for a lifetime.

After yesterday I ended up with a deep cut in my hand, as well as a pain in my other wrist from pulling on my manacle. The skin is blistered and bleeding, like it's been chewed on like a dog toy. It's absolutely disgusting. And so painful. I also have a small cut on my cheek, and a few bruises from my captor.

Last night Sander gave me a bowl of water, soap, and some cotton material to wrap my hand and wrists. I cared for my injuries, but they still sting. They're in the process of hearing.

But he also said some really strange stuff. He said he was sorry. He just kept saying sorry, over and over again. But he also told me that I should never try anything like that again, or there would be hell to pay. Mixed kidnapper signals. I don't know what goes on inside his sick head.

"Cookies?" I hear Jax ask through the wall. Our wall.

"Guess Christmas even puts psychopaths in a cheery mood," I say sighing. I take a bite of another cookie, snicker doodle. It's crunchy on the inside and soft and chewy on the inside. Still warm. Did he bake these himself? Once again his cookie choice is bringing me back to my childhood.

The ratio of cinnamon to sugar is perfect, the cookie melts in my mouth. This is perhaps the most joy I've felt since I've been here. But it's also a painful reminder of everything I've lost. My dad will be without me. I won't be able to give my best friend the new set of tools I saved up all summer for.

"My mum used to love these kind of peanut butter swirl cookies. They're my favorite, too. Got that from her I guess...what are these cookies with the white and red in them? I've been afraid to try this one," he says, his voice slightly muffled by the cookie he's eating. He sounds almost happy today. Normal is a good word.

"White chocolate cranberry. My mom loved these. Try it, Jax. They're good, I promise. I've already eaten all of mine."

"Hmph, tees er atwry oodm." My mind imagines a dark haired teenage boy with a mouth stuffed with cookies.

"What?" I say, letting out a little chuckle.

"I said, these are actually good, Em."

"Okay. Didn't your mother ever teach you to not speak with a full mouth?" I tease.

"Of course she did! I just didn't listen to her a lot. And I've got a lot to say," he says. And for the first time I hear his laugh. Like really hear his laugh. It's this deep sounding little giggle, it suits his personality perfectly and absolutely adorable.

For a minute, I imagine my perfect world. My mom is still alive. It's Christmas Eve and she's baking in kitchen and my dad is making a roast for dinner. I'm sitting on my living room couch, Jax and I are having a conversation just like this, taste testing all the treats my mom bakes. And Andi and Daniel are there, too. And Daniel is just a friend.

Maybe I loved him once...but now I haven't seen him for what has felt like ages and my heart has moved on.

So that's my perfect. All the people I care about most with me during the holiday season, and all of us are happy and safe.

But reality has been cruel.

 _ **December 25th**_

"Know that I would get you a present if I was able to." It's Christmas Day, and although it doesn't seem like it, it's like some happy spirit is within both me and Jax. We've been watching (well, he's been listening) to Christmas movies all day.

My wounds are still healing. My hand has been hurting like hell, with puss and all that other nasty come coming out. I can't actually see my face, but the bruises feel better at least.

"That's very sweet," I reply to him, smiling. My head is leaned against, his voice is so close, I can hear him so clearly. Yet he's still so far away me.

"What would I even get you? I've never gotten Christmas gifts for any girls accept my mum and Jessie. Girls at school usually get each girly things like body sprays and candies and lotions. What would I get you? I could get you some scrapbooking stuff, but from what you've told me it seems like you have enough to make a scrapbook taller than a skyscraper."

"True..."

"Maybe I'd bake some white chocolate cranberries and snicker doodles. Though I don't know if I'm any good at baking," he admits, letting out a worn out laugh. I feel it through the wall, which means he must be leaning against it, too. These are the types of moments when I feel some what physically close to him. Not just mentally and emotionally close. And the feeling is nice. Refreshing.

"I though you would bake cakes with you little sister?" I say/ask, puzzled.

"Yeah, but Jessie can actually bake. And she usually just bosses me around the whole time. And she always eats more extra batter than me! It's one of her favorite things, you know. Eating the extra batter. She says brownie batter and strawberry cake batter are her favorites. But she always hogs it all. I think she also loves acting like the boss, like she's in charge of me." He lets out a sigh. "I just really miss her."

"I know," I say sadly, in a desperate attempt to try and sound empathetic. If only I had siblings. I'd always dreamed of having a little sister or brother.

Maybe my dad would be more comforted if he had another child with him. If he wasn't all alone in that house with me gone. The "what if"s of this situation make me go insane.

Suddenly I hear the unlatching of the cellar door. I let out a surprised gasp, frightened by the sudden loud noise.

The sound of his footsteps down the stairs pounds in my ear, and my heart beat races to what feels like a million beats per second. The cut in my hand burns just thinking about him, my bruises ache.

Then my knob turns.

Funny how it's become "my knob." Like all that's in this room is all I have. An excuse to say something belongs to me. But I'm just fooling myself. I don't even belong to myself anymore.

Sander pops his head through the door. Disgust runs down my spine.

"Hi, Emma." His mood seems rather jovial today. He places a bottle of water and some new bandage wraps beside me. "I hope you're taking care of yourself. Since I'm working, I can't always take care of you and your brother."

 _My brother?_ Is that what he thinks of Jax and I? His children?

But I digress from my initial treatment towards my kidnapper. I'm going to play nice.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You do?" He sounds pleasantly surprised.

"I do. I really do appreciate you, Sander." He stares at me, his mood swinging into anger.

"Master," I correct myself.

"So," he starts. "I think we should have some sort of friendship. I've tried to get to know you, but all I know is from what I see on the news. I follow everything I see about you two." He smiles, as if he's proud.

"If you want." I plaster a fake smile on my face, and it takes everything in my to look happy. But I'm scared out of my mind.

He pauses, looking at me. Then says, "how did you like the cookies?"

"I loved them. I hadn't had white chocolate cranberry cookies like that in forever. They were my mother's favorite," I say, and this time I'm telling the truth.

"I know," he says.

"What?" I say, snapping my head towards him. He looks confused.

"Nothing, Emma."

"How would you know that?" I push, my suspicions growing.

"I didn't know. I'm sorry I lied."

He really is insane. I don't think I'm every going to understand what goes through his head.

"What are you're holiday plans?" I ask, trying to get away from the topic and back on my strategy of making "friends" with him. He's so crazy he might just think I'm genuine.

"Going out. I don't have any family that lives near by. But I want to spend tomorrow with the two of you. Well, not together, of course."

"What do you keep me and Jax apart?" I ask. This is one thing that's been on my mind lately. Why is it that he separated us? This whole monstrosity would be so much more bearable if I was with Jax. I'm the same room as him.

"Because I love the two of you for different reasons, and I like to keep you separate." He pauses. "Wait! How do you know his name?"

"Saw it on the news," I say. There's no lie there. It did see it on the news. I just knew it before then.

"Oh. I didn't think of that. How are you enjoying the TV? We should find shows to watch together. It will give us something to bond over."

"Okay." My chest feels like a huge rock is on top of it. The weight of him being so close...him wanting us to be friends. It's taking all my effort not to cry and scream.

"Well," he sighs, "I have to go. But I will see you, tomorrow when it's Christmas. Goodnight, Emma." He kisses me on the cheek. I shudder. As soon as he's out the door, I lie down on my mattress, exhausted from my efforts.

People say Stockholm Syndrome can happen when you're kidnapped. You know, captured falling in love with their captor? But that's not happening to me. And I'm happy about it. It means I'm not succumbing to him. It means I'm not losing myself.

Because I'm not alone down here.

I'm not going to trust and rely on my kidnapper. I don't need to. Not when I know that there is someone, right next to me, who understands.

And I have my mom. I know that she's with me. She haunts my dreams. Of course, I never mind her doing so. She's my mom. Just seeing her, even if it's not real, makes me happy.

I take off the old bandages on my hand and wrist, throwing them to the corner opposite of me. They're bloody and gross, worn out. They've gone through a lot.

Like me. I'm bleeding, dirty, tired. But I'm not broken. Maybe in desperate need of some repairs. A bubble bath, some painkillers. Andi next to me. That's what I need.

I know right now another escape attempt is not what I need. That's just impossible at this point. It's going to take time for something to change around here. I my mom in my heart, the memory of my friends and family back home, and I have Jax. But most importantly, I have me.

As I wrap myself in new bandages, slightly held back by a chain attaching me to the wall, I think:

 _I can't let him break me. Not now._

 _I will have to break him first._


	5. Chapter 5

**_Hey readers! If you don't know, I don't really update on this website anymore. There's so many more chapter on wattpad!_**

 ** _My username is selaships, just like on here. I don't publish here anymore. So, please read on wattpad, and make sure to vote and follow for all my updates!_**

 ** _Here's chapter 5 of THE WALL for those who don't have wattpad. I would really recommend getting an account! This is the last I will publishing this story on this site. Please support my story on wattpad! Look up The Wall (Jemma), or my username selaships_**

 ** _Thank you!_**

 ** _December 25th_**

 ** _Jax_**

I'm not sure when I first realized I was going insane. But I do know it was down here when the insanity started again. I thought it had gone away...

I had been living in this country not even two weeks before I was kidnapped. My dad decided to move our whole family out to the house in Florida to get a start in growing the American branch of his company. We were supposed to move up to New York City or LA by the time I finished my junior year of high school. But who even knows if that's gonna happen now.

It was hard enough leaving. I was ripped away from my friends. The people who made me who I was. My whole life was in Australia, aside from Jessie and my mum, who lived into Florida. But I was always talking with them over video chat or text or whatever was convenient.

But it seems as if the world just kicked me while I was down.

And everyday I have to ask myself if this is what going crazy feels like. If I'm going crazy again. Sometimes I can't tell when I'm getting bad again.

But there's only one thing that's kept me from ending it all. From giving up.

Em.

The speck of light in my darkness.

When I heard her voice I knew I could make it through this, because I knew I wasn't alone. No matter how messed up I got on the inside.

I've struggled with mental illness before. And there's some days down here where my brain just can't seem to keep it together anymore; like I'm falling back into that place I used to be in a few months ago, where I couldn't even leave the house because I didn't want anyone to see the real me. The sick me.

And I've told Emma everything, _everything_ , about my life within these many weeks I've been trapped down here with her, separated by the wall. But I never told her I was sick. That I'm becoming sick again.

And that makes me wonder if Emma's not told me something, something huge, about her. I wouldn't be upset with her, seeing as I have with held key information on Jax Novoa from her.

But she's the kind of person I want to know inside and out. She's the kind of person I _would_ share my secret with.

(Not that it was much of secret back in Sydney.) (I had a manic episode in school.) (They called an ambulance for my freak out. A fucking ambulance.) (school was never the same again.)

There was only a few people who stuck around after I told them, after they'd seen me at my worst. My dad's best friend's daughter, who had become my oldest and closest friend. And my girlfriend at the time. My first love...

But there was one day when she decided she couldn't take it anymore. She said she couldn't take seeing me in anymore pain, that all she wanted was for me to get better and for me to get happy again.

And she broke up with me.

I told Emma it was because of the move. The only lie I'd ever told Emma.

My ex, she thought she couldn't help me at all, she didn't know how. And losing the girl I loved just...triggered something. I had hit my lowest point because of that. But after hitting my lowest point, (and I'm still too traumatized to talk about, I would probably scare Emma if I told her) I started to get better. The newest set of pills my doctors had me on were working, and I was helping myself, too. I was getting better. I _was_ better when I moved to Florida.

Sure, maybe I did have a panic attack when I found out I was moving away from my friends, my life, but my doctors told me it was nothing to worry about. I had stopped taking the pills only a few weeks before I moved here.

But now I'm slipping again.

Maybe this will be a good thing. Maybe I'll go so crazy that I break my chains off me and escape. But I could just end up hurting myself trying to escape. But it's not like I haven't done stupid stuff to hurt myself before-

 _No_ I tell myself.

 _You don't want to go back to that place. You don't, you can't, need to freak out and hurt yourself. Not again._

I won't. I keep telling myself I won't.

There's some nights down here where either Emma or I will just start crying. Out of nowhere. Well, not out of nowhere considering our living conditions.

But both us, we don't try to say or do anything while the other is crying. We don't try to comfort the other. Because down here, you just need to cry. But sometimes I cry silently, so she can't hear. So she doesn't get worried.

And some nights for me our sleepless ones.

Some nights I hear Emma muttering words in her sleep. Some nights it's cute things like "cookies" "glitter" "school" (School, really?)

And some nights it's scary things. Not the words, just the way she says them. Like she's being torn away from them. "Andi! Danny! Dad!" are the normal ones I hear. But now there's a new name being shouted out by her in the night, perhaps in her nightmares.

"Jax."

I'll probably never know what those dreams are about. Maybe she just forgets them, or wants to anyways.

It's not like I don't get nightmares, too. Mine could even be worse given my mental instability, but my bad dreams are a whole different story. It's like demons crawling around inside my mind when I have bad dreams. Another thing I don't talk about in detail. At least not now.

Emma knows I was a popular guy. I told her about the 16th birthday I had (which was also a going away party) and how so many people came. In the last few months before I left, I was good. People started to forget my episode at school and went on to talk about the next piece of gossip. I got all my "friends" back. Yeah, it was nice for a kid who was sick (where nobody could see it; inside) to have a lot of friends. To be popular. To have girls want him.

But I don't know. I don't think I ever needed all those people. Maybe I just needed my real friends, and my family. And now, Emma. I need Emma.

 ** _January 7th - present_**

They're arguing again.

Funny how the more they talk, the more time they spend together, they more they fight. Sometimes, even about regular things and not 'trapped in your basement and don't know who you are' things. This argument is of the latter.

It started out with Sander, as usual, trying to strike up a normal conversation about whatever they're watching on Emma's TV, her sixteenth birthday present from him. But the conversation always escalates.

They're talking about some show they always watch together (and that I always listen to since I can't see) called The Eighth Dawn. The fourth season started around the time Emma and Sander became fake buddies, and they began watching it since they were both fans of the show.

I guess even kidnappers have their TV preferences.

"The only reason Chelsea would do that to Cameron is because of her mental state! Chelsea has been going on a downward slope ever since her toxic relationship with Derek. She's ill, in the head where they can't see it. No human being would ever do what Chelsea did...unless something was wrong with them." Emma is trying to make a point by metaphorically comparing our situation to whatever is relevant on their little shows.

"But all Chelsea wanted was to keep Cameron safe...she did whatever she had to do to be with him, away from the Samgolians, even if that meant hurting him. She was protecting him," Sander argues.

"She was _not_ keeping him safe from anything! If she wanted him to happy and safe, she would've left Cameron alone a long time ago! Can't you see what's wrong in this picture! Chelsea needs help! She needs to let Cameron go!"

Emma gets the crack in her voice, where she's trying not to cry in front of him. She hates crying in front of him. So do I, and I usually swallow it down like her. But she's pushing it. She's reaching the breaking point.

I listen as Sander exits her room, locks up the door, and heads up the stairs. I can only imagine what the outside of this room must look like.

"I'm trying," she says in an exasperated sigh. "I really am trying to get to him. Even playing friendly with him. But he can't see his own madness and I have no way of helping him. I don't know how."

"It's okay. You're trying. And you're spending time with him, which is more than I can say for myself. He seems to be taking a liking to you or something."

"I don't even know what to think anymore. How does he do it? How does a man so, so sick survive like that? How does he not realize? I can't even imagine being in a place like he is."

"But I can," I say under my breath, so she can't hear me.

Then I realize it's true. Maybe I'm just like Sander. He's all kinds of messed up, and he doesn't have anyone there for him, so he took me and Em.

Is that what I would've turned out like if I didn't have the family and friends I have? If I never got better, would I be just as insane as he is?

For just the tiniest moment, I feel for him. I empathize with him, because I know what it feels like to be just...sick inside.

Maybe he does need us.

Maybe he needs people to care and to help him get better.

But I don't know.

At this point I can't tell what thoughts are the crazy ones and what thoughts are the actual Jax ones.

That night I can't sleep. I stay up thinking out Sander all night. What if he's just like me? What if I'm just like him?

My mind clouds with a million thoughts. All night I silently let the tears fall, I sweat almost feverishly, and I pull at my hair hard, trying to feel pain instead of feeling the sickness spread through me.

But pain can't distract me from everything.

Then I think about Em. And I feel a little less insane.

I can't keep going on quiet forever or it's gonna kill me.

I need to tell her the truth about my past. I need her to know how sick I really am, or I might never get out of this room.


End file.
